


Write The Change You Want To See In The World

by wandaplenn



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Happy Ending, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-20 00:15:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5985870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wandaplenn/pseuds/wandaplenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Harry insisted on meeting Freddie and then something righted itself between him and Louis? Well, I would like that very much, so here it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Write The Change You Want To See In The World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lsach](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lsach/gifts).



> THIS IS SUPER FAKE and, therefore, not real, and, also, not based in reality.
> 
> There's also a whole world in between the last two paragraphs that maybe I'll write one day, or maybe you will, but it includes Harry Styles writing lullabies for Freddie, and it also includes joy and laughter and Louis and Harry re-learning what they like about each other.
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://www.jennyishjoanne.tumblr.com); I'm a dirty gryle w a stylwin heart.

Louis's phone pings at 11:02am. He's got a sleeping Freddie in one arm and he's fiddling with the bottle warmer in the other. Oli's out running errands; his mother's back in Doncaster. Francesca, the babysitter who travels back and forth with the little guy, gets back at 2pm. So it's just him in the cavernous house he's rented in Malibu, with a month-old baby and a persnickety bottle warmer, and a pinging phone. He sets down the bottle:

A 310 number; he doesn't need to have it saved to know who it is. _Okay then, I think I'll just come over._

Louis scrolls up; it's a sea of grey. He hasn't responded to a single one in the last month.

_Hey, it's Harry. Got your number from Lou. Want to say congrats and all the love. And I hope you're well._

A week later:

_Freddie. Beautiful. Hope I can meet him soon. And I hope you're okay. Great, even._

February 2nd, very early in the morning.

_Heyyyyyyy. Stil lcan't believe you've got a child and I've nto seen him. Thought I migth hear from you today but you're busy I guess. It's okay. Maybe this week?_

A couple days later:

_Sorry about that last one. Would love to meet him, though. You good, Louis?_

And then this newest one, as if Louis had said anything in response. As if Louis had said that was okay.

It's a load of bullshit because this is the most Louis has heard from Harry in about three years, and it's so insane how he's pretending that it isn't weird to be texting Louis like this. And Louis should have probably guessed; Harry always goes weak in the knees for a baby. But it's not that simple.

No one can know how out of control Louis feels about this whole God damn mess of a situation. No one knows how he felt in April when he met Briana at a party and the only easy thing in his life was how he could reliably find girls to leave with; how it made everyone happy to see him "having fun," and how he felt pretty happy, too, in those moments when he could host a party at 4am in a hotel. Smoke weed, get off, sleep in. Start again the next day and try not to think about the zoom-out on his life. Zayn already gone, torn off less like a band-aid and more like a piece of duct tape on his chest hair. So painful, but also kind of inevitable. The approaching light at the end of the One Direction tunnel. When Louis closed his eyes he wasn't sure if it was light from the outside or just a train coming at him full-speed.

And then life interceded in this way, because of course Louis was never in control of anything, and of course there's a whole world of people out there who are crazier than anyone or anything he's ever met. Who see him as some sort of answer to their problems when he doesn't even have an answer to his own. And now he has a child; a tiny little bundle with his brother's eyes. Even now when he holds him, he thinks it might be his brother; can't believe how close in age they are.

There isn't a single person on this whole fucking earth who understands what Louis is thinking, he realizes as he looks at that goddamn annoying son of a cunting text message from Harry fucking Styles.

Of course the gate bell rings at that very fucking moment and Louis can see through the grainy camera that it's Harry's SUV, and the only thing he can do is buzz him in, because it's too late to text him. To late to say "leave me the fuck alone," so he's just going to have to say it in person.

Louis shakes the bottle again, and puts it back in the warmer, hugs Freddie to his chest as he moves to the door.

Harry's got sunglasses in his hair, which is greasy, but he looks fine otherwise. He's carrying a huge teddy bear, perched against his hip like a toddler in his mother's arms and he looks the same, but nervous maybe. Louis doesn't know how to read him anymore, if he ever did.

"How'd you find us, then?" Louis asks, not letting him in.

"Not that hard, ya know. We have a few .... friends in common. Still." Harry replies, fiddling with the foot of the big white bear.

"And what is it that you want, exactly?" Louis asks, holding Freddie a bit tighter as he begins to squirm, threatening to wake up.

"I was just thinking, like. Sorry," he pauses, looks unsure, holds the bear out. "I brought this. Can I come in?"

In the kitchen, Louis's got the bottle ready on the table for when Freddie wakes up for real, and Harry's put the big bear awkwardly next to it, slumping a bit, with a card resting on its lap. Harry fiddles with his glasses, then his rings.

"Do you want a beer or something?" Louis offers as he pulls one out for himself and plops down at the table.

"No, I'm off it, ta" Harry says. Louis shakes his head.

"Well, sit then, but I'm not making you tea." Harry sits, obedient. So fucking serious; Louis particularly hates when he gets like this.

Harry looks at him. Louis wants to turn away, but he won't let him have that. "It's just fucked, Louis. You know it is, right? You've got a kid and he's a month old and I've never even met him?"

"Doesn't seem that fucked to me, Harry," Louis throws back, quickly.

A deep breath, closed-lips, and Harry says, "Can you put the rest of it on hold for just--" he looks at his phone, "45 minutes? Til noon. And just tell me, like, three things about how you are. How you are doing? I guess that's why I came."

Louis looks down at Freddie, chuckles a bit meanly (he knows how it sounds, but it just comes out, he can never help it). How is he doing? How is he fucking doing, then?

"Or just one thing?" Harry continues.

One fucking thing? Louis thinks. Harry's come all the way here and he just wants to know one thing about how Louis is doing, and, truly, how is he ever supposed to answer such a stupid question.

Freddie's still asleep, but his little fists come up and he wriggles his head a bit and Louis can't think of a single thing to say about how he's doing because it's impossible. It's impossible to articulate how much he loves this little human and how much he can't understand how he's here, holding him, with Harry in his house. And they're 22 and 24 and Louis could scream about how much he never thought this would be the scene.

"One thing, Harry?" Louis is still looking down at Freddie. He wonders if Harry can tell how gone he is. "One thing is I miss you, Hazza. That's one fucking thing. And another thing is I fucking hate that." He looks up and catches a glance at Harry who looks stunned. Of course. Louis can't hold his eye or he'll lose his nerve.

"Can't believe I have a kid. And you haven't even met him." Harry just listens. Doesn't look like he knows what to say.

"He's really fucking cute," Louis continues, holding Freddie out a bit so Harry can see for the first time since he's gotten there. "But I can't believe he's real. And it makes me feel pretty fucking awful."

Louis's really looking at Harry now; they meet each other's eyes. "And I don't know what I'm doing out here. That's three things, at least, I guess." Harry gives the slightest nod. "Is that what you wanted?" Louis asks.

"I never wanted--" Harry clears his throat. "I never wanted you to feel awful, Lou. Never, not once."

Louis feels the warmth at the side of his face before he even realizes what the stinging in his eyes is, that he's crying. He puts a hand to one eye and tries to wipe it away but it's coming too fast, so he shudders a breath. Holy shit, he feels awful. He's never let himself realize how awful he really feels.

Harry stands and before Louis can push him away, he's got his arm on Louis's shoulder. "C'mere," and he stoops to pull Louis into him. Louis puts his face against Harry's stomach and holds on with the hand not holding Freddie. The smell is so old and familiar and so Harry that Louis's tears turn full on. He can barely contain what's raging through him. He hears it outside of his own body, the gasps for air. He's full on sobbing now, he thinks distantly.

Harry runs his hand through Louis's hair. Doesn't say, "shhh." Just says, "It's ok." A little bit quieter, "It's going to be okay." And, "Here, here," as he pats Louis's back and stoops a bit lower, arms coming around Louis's to pluck out Freddie. He takes the little bundle in his arms and Louis hears him say, "Hiiiii."

Harry is crouching by Louis, one arm still up around his back, and the other around Freddie, who's got all his attention. His eyes are opening now and Louis can only put his head against Harry's shoulder. "Hi there, little Freddie. Yes, I'm Harry. Hi. It's okay," Harry coos, still moving his hand gently along Louis's back.

Louis shudders. "He's good, right?" Harry looks at him, as Louis rubs away the tears, a bit snotty but done with it, for now.

"So good, Lou."

Harry pops up deftly and grabs the bottle to feed him before he starts crying. "I'll feed him. You, take a nap. We'll talk when you wake up, yeah?" And suddenly there is nothing Louis wants more than a nap. He's never felt more sure of anything in his entire life, so he reaches up and pets Freddie's head and looks at Harry who gives him a weak smile and says, "We'll be alright here," and Louis thinks, for just a second, that maybe they will be.

Louis takes a nap, and when he wakes up Harry is still there.

A couple years later, he won’t be able to remember what all that anger felt like. He’ll think back on it and know that it was there—he’ll know that he had felt trapped, that he had felt like his heart might never soften. But he won’t be able to conjure it up, because he’ll see Harry with Freddie on his hip, pointing out at a lion at the zoo, making a load roar and tickling Freddie’s stomach till he laughs and laughs. And Harry will look over at Louis and blow him a kiss. Harry will pass Freddie into Louis’s arms and rub Louis’s back and kiss his forehead and say, “Let’s go home. I think little buddy is getting tired.”


End file.
